There was nothing at all strange in what he had told me. It was only one of the "Cosas de Mexico," though, perhaps, not among the commonest. Still it would have given me little more concern than one might feel on reading the account of a lady in London streets--Bloomsbury-square, for instance--having been stopped by a fustian-coated garotter, and relieved of her pocket handkerchief, her card case, and vinaigrette. Any chagrin the story caused me was but a resuscitation of that already in my mind--the remembrance of my murdered friend, and my antipathy to the whole fraternity of _salteadores_. Both might have been freshly excited by his narrative, and nothing more; but for the aroused remembrance, of which I have spoken; and which secured him a sympathy I could scarcely explain. Besides, there was something touching in the appeal of the old Don--not the less that it was made with all the elegance and in the diction of an educated gentleman. I had no desire to resist it. On the contrary, I at once determined to lay his case before the general, and strengthen it with my own influence--so far as that went. There was not much generosity in my motive. Without knowing it, the Mexican had done me a service. I felt certain I should now have the chance of chastising--if not the same brigands who had assassinated my artist acquaintance--some who would have behaved quite as badly, had the opportunity occurred to them. Before turning to translate what had been communicated to me, I thought it might be as well to make myself acquainted with the patronymic of the petitioner. "Your name?" I inquired, looking him full in the face, and with a vague impression that I had somewhere seen him before, "You have not told me that? The general may wish to know it." "_Eusebio Villa-Senor. Al servicio de V_." I started as if a shot had struck me. Oh! the memories that rolled up at the mention of that name! I was carried back to the City of the Angels--to the Calle del Obispo-- to the sorrow from which I had vainly imagined myself to have escaped! Again was it upon me, full and fell as ever. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ With an effort I succeeded in controlling my emotions, or at least the exhibition of them. Absorbed in his own grief, Don Eusebio did not suspect the existence of mine; and the general was still engrossed with his strategical combinations. I was now too deeply interested in the suit of the petitioner, to lose a moment's time in placing it before him petitioned. I endorsed it with all the eloquence I could command: since it was almost identical with my own--already preferred. Our joint prayer was heard, and granted upon the spot. I obtained a commission to chastise any band of brigands, I might choose to go out against. Need I say, that I had not much difficulty in making the selection? CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. A DISOBEDIENT DAUGHTER.